


In My Arms

by Labyrinth_Runner



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, I kinda just wanted to make something about a bard hitting on a barkeep, This is my first witcher fanfic, and this is what came of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Labyrinth_Runner/pseuds/Labyrinth_Runner
Summary: When a bard enters a tavern, he then decides that his goal is to pursue a maiden fair.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 10





	In My Arms

Rain splattered against the windows of the tavern. The noise could barely be heard above the din of the patrons, but it was still there. A grimace crossed your face as you polished the tankards. You hadn’t worn a cloak to work. You would get soaked on the way home. Tucking that thought safely into the back of your mind, you went back to work, changing out and lighting the candles before tending to the fire in the hearth to keep your patrons warm. The rainy nights were always the busiest, with travelers stopping in to step out of the storms until they passed. After all, it was cheaper to stop for a night, or at the very least a few hours, than it was to care for a cold. Taking your apron from beneath the bar, you unfolded it with a flourish. The stain from last night’s stew was still on the corner, but you didn’t care. You’d get a new one next month when your sister got a new dress. You could use her old one to make a new apron for both of you. With your back to the door, you fastened the apron around you. 

“Lass, can you fetch water from the fountain?” the owner asked.

“Now?” you asked, trying to hide your irritation.

“It’s either now or there won’t be a meal tonight,” she replied.

A sigh passed through your lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

Steeling yourself for the cold, damp night, you paused at the door to take a breath. Once you’d worked yourself up enough, you grabbed the water buckets and opened the door.

It was pouring outside. A steady waterfall cascaded off the roof. You’d have to pass through it. There was no way around it. In the back of your mind, you contemplated just leaving the bucked outside to catch the rain. It would fill soon enough with rain like this, and the fountain was farther than you’d like to travel. You’d catch a cold in weather like this. 

“Do you always stand in doorways?” a man teased as he stood under the awning of the tavern.

“Do you always lurk outside of them?” you shot back.

“Only when a pretty woman is blocking the way through,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes, taking in the lute on his back. _A bard. Oh joy._

“Are you going out without a cloak? You’ll get soaked,” he pointed out.

“Well, I have to fetch water for the stew,” you sighed, stepping out under the awning with him.

“So just….” the man mimed putting the bucket out in the rain and letting the rain fill them. Then he thumbed back towards the tavern, “They’ll never know the difference.”

The idea was growing more tempting by the minute. “Fine. It’s better than catching my death.” With a furtive glance back towards the tavern, you placed the buckets out to collect the water. With the rate it was falling, the buckets were filled in minutes and ready to be brought back inside. The owner didn’t even notice that you were dry when you returned, or if they did, they didn’t mention it.

The bard started to play after he ate a light dinner. His music was lively, brightening up the dark night. You couldn’t help but smile as you listened. His stories were funny and fanciful, making you long for places you’d never see and dreams that could never be. 

As he performed, his eye caught yours and he gave you a wink. Your heart fluttered in a way you wish it hadn’t as you blushed and went about your work. You gave him a wide birth the rest of the night, watching how the man who had been trying to court you eyed the bard. No, it was for the best if you didn’t go down that path. 

When you cleaned up the bard’s table once the tavern was empty, you noticed he had left you some coins with a note saying they were for a new apron. They felt heavy in your hand. You couldn’t take these, could you? What would it mean if you did? Perhaps you should just give them back to him tomorrow. Tucking them in your pocket, you decided to do just that. Then, you finished up your cleaning and went to home.

The following night, when the bard walked up to the bar you slid the coins back to him.

“You forgot these,” you murmured.

“I didn’t forget. I gave them. To _you_ ,” he said pointedly.

“I can’t accept these,” you sighed. “You earned them. They are yours. Use them to have an actual meal instead of just bread tonight.”

He looked down at the coins before back up at you, realizing that you wouldn’t budge. He swallowed a lump in his throat before picking them back up. “A-alright, yes. I’ll do that.”

You nodded, placing a drink in front of him. “Do you have a name, bard?”

“Jaskier,” he grinned, “But, you can call me yours.”

A chuckle spilled from your lips. “Does that usually work?”

He shrugged. “Hit or miss.”

Shaking your head at him, you went back to work.

“I will win you over!” he called out after you.

A blush settled on your cheeks. You’d never had a man put in this much effort before. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. He winked at you before going to play for the crowd, never taking his eyes off you the rest of the night.

This went on every night for a week until the weekend finally rolled around and you decided to get to the bottom of it all.

You were behind the bar, cleaning some tankards when you heard the door open. Thinking nothing of it, you went to reach for another glass. That was, until the strumming started.

A sigh past through your lips as you looked towards the heavens. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” a voice admitted from behind you.

“What do you want, bard?” you asked tiredly as you turned to face him.

“I thought that was obvious,” he grinned. “ _You_. What else is a man to do in order to win the affections of his muse?”

“You’ll have to try harder than that, Jaskier,” you murmured as you swept by him.

“Is it because of him?” he asked softly, taking your arm to stop you. His head nodded towards the man in the corner, a local boy that had admired you since you were younger. Most of the villagers thought you’d end up together. He also came here every night just to see you. Jaskier gently ran his hand along your jaw before tipping your face up towards his.“You don’t look at him the way you look at me.”

“And how is that?” you asked, looking up into his eyes. They were as clear as two aquamarines. Precious stones that looked at you like somehow you were more rare.

“You look at him as an obligation. An inevitability. He’s boring. You see me as an adventure.”

“All adventures come to an end, Jaskier, and we all end up back in our boring lives,” you sighed, pulling yourself free from him.

His gaze followed you through the tavern as you delivered drinks to the patrons. He continued to strum, after all, he had to make a living somehow. But, there was less mirth in his songs the rest of the night. He left without goodbye that evening, something you realized as you cleaned the tables after the patrons went to bed. Why did that disappoint you? Your brow furrowed as you realized it was because you were giving up on a dream. A silly dream, but a dream nonetheless. Sure, the bard may be exciting, but it wasn’t real. His statements of you being his muse couldn’t be true. They were just what he said to get in bed with his next conquest. He’d move on, and you’d still be here, left in the wake of destruction caused by the sea in his eyes.

Finishing up for the night, you went home. Pulling your cloak around you to keep you warm in the cold night air, you let out an exhale at the fact that you may never see Jaskier again. You didn’t know where he lived, or if he’d come back through town once more, and if he did, would you really be content to wait until that day came? Looking at the ground, you realized that yes, you would be content, because then the dream wouldn’t die. It was foolish and you knew it, but you also knew that you were starting to fall in love with that idiot who winked at you without shame and looked at you as if you were his own personal Euterpe.

With a shake of your head at the lost cause, you unlocked the door to your small cottage and went inside. In minutes you had started up a fire on the hearth to warm you. You sat on a chair next to it to warm your feet, but your mind was elsewhere. 

In your mind, you were on adventures with a bard, journeying through forests and caves to find the next best thing. As amazing as it was, you knew it wasn’t what you truly wanted. You wanted Jaskier, yes, but you didn’t want to constantly be on the move for the rest of your life. Some day you wanted to settle down and have a family. You didn’t know if he felt the same- if he were capable of the same. 

A sigh passed through your lips as you got up to go to bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and walking towards the other room.

And then you heard it.

Strumming.

“It can’t be,” you murmured, but your feet moved on their own accord to your front door. Your hands had a mind of their own as they threw open the door to see a bard sitting on your garden wall as he strummed his lute.

He looked up at you with a smile. 

“Jaskier, what are you doing here?” you asked, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Darling, I wrote something for you and I wanted you to hear it. But, I thought I’d play it just for you this time,” he said, shyly looking down and peeking up at you through his lashes.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured, walking towards him.

“What bard would I be if I didn’t serenade my muse with the works she inspired?” he asked with a confident smirk, but he was blushing.

You chuckled softly. “Then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

He nodded and started to strum again, in earnest this time. The melody washed over you. Each pluck of the lute was like playing one of your heartstrings. It was beautiful on its own. It was light but strong. Then, he started to sing.

“ _The world may be dark, the air may be cold, but here in my arms to have and to hold, a kiss forms a spark to light up the dark. With you in my arms, I will grow bold, together we’ll write a story untold,_ ” he said before finishing with a flourish.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment.

“I haven’t finished it yet,” he admitted.

“I’m sure it’ll be great when it’s done,” you murmured.

His smile fell. “Yes, well…”

“I love it,” you said, taking his lute and placing it on the wall next to him. “And… _if_ you meant it, then I love you, too.”

“Y-you do?” he asked as he jumped down to stand in front of you. “I mean. I do mean it. I meant every word. I’ve been serenading you all week with love songs, but they weren’t working. I figured if I wrote you my _own_ then maybe… I’d have a chance.”

You shook your head. “For a man that acts so confident all the time…”

“When I’m sure of something, I’m unsure of myself,” he admitted.

“And you’re sure of me?” you asked with a grin.

He reached up to cup your cheek, gently pushing your hair out of your face. “Ever since you were willing to brave a rainstorm for your work. You’re dedicated. If you’re willing to do something like that out of obligation, then I couldn’t begin to imagine how dedicated you’d be to something purely because you wanted to be.”

“But you’re an adventurer, Jaskier. I’m… not sure I’d always want to be,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “You have an adventurous heart.”

“Who’s to say love isn’t the biggest adventure of all?” he asked earnestly.

“A story untold is a lofty goal,” you replied.

“You dare me to dream big,” he grinned.

“What if I disappoint you?” you sighed.

“You won’t.”

“But how do you know?” you pleaded.

“Because I love you,” he said laughed, “I have never put in this much effort for a woman. But, something told me that I couldn’t just give up on you.” He leaned his forehead against yours and added, “On _us_.”

“You’re a fool,” you whispered.

“So I’ve been told,” he said softly with a half smile, “But only fools fall in love.”

“I guess that makes me one, too,” you replied, looking into his eyes.

His arms encircled your waist to pull you against him.

 _“But here in my arms, to have and to hold,_ ” he murmured.

You bit your lip. “ _A kiss forms a spark to light up the dark_.”

Slowly, he turned his head, nose bumping yours. Your hands slipped up his chest before gently grabbing his collar. His lips connected with yours, softly at first. Then, the kiss grew desperate as you started to kiss back harder and harder, pulling him back with you towards your cottage. Reaching back, he grabbed his lute and let you lead him back inside before pushing you up against the closed door. He placed his lute on the ground next to the door as his hands came up under your skirts to lift you. You jumped a bit, wrapping your legs around his waist as your hands slid into his hair and tugging gently. He moaned against your lips as he pressed you further into the door.

Finally, you pulled back for air. 

“With you in my arms-” he started but you cut him off with another round of kisses.

You trailed your lips along his jaw towards his neck before gently nipping his ear, causing him to gasp. You felt your back leave the door as he started to walk towards your bedroom. His hands kneaded you as he walked, little moans and gasps of praise slipping from his mouth as your lips assaulted his neck with kisses and love bites. 

He dropped you on your bed and kissed you hard as his hands slipped your skirts up past your knees. A giggle escaped your lips.

“What?” he asked, stopping to look down at you from inches above you.

Leaning up, you answered. _“I will grow bold_ ,” you teased in his ear.

Gently, his thumb traced circles on your bare thighs, slowly working up them. He looked down at his hands for a moment before flicking his eyes up to yours. “Together, we’ll write a story untold,” he murmured.

Cupping his face, you pulled his lips back down to meet yours, losing yourself in him. The fire in the other room was dying out, but you didn’t care. You had a different source of heat, one that was showing you just how adventurous love could be, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.


End file.
